


Cows and Coziness

by spacepirate



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Aromantic Jonathan Sims, Canon Asexual Character, M/M, Other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Martin Blackwood, but i wrote the quasiplatonic relationship fic i wanted to see in the world, good cow content, no beta we die like men, oh boy so i'm ready to get b-b-b-bullied, post 159 pre 160, they're idiots and they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21855820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacepirate/pseuds/spacepirate
Summary: But then of course everything had gone to shit, and they’d run away to Daisy’s safehouse up north, and settled into a strangely… domestic routine.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 23
Kudos: 170





	Cows and Coziness

The safehouse was cozy. Martin had been sure Jon wouldn’t know cozy if it slapped him in the face, not since Jon’s flat looked the way it did- pristine and clearly not lived-in. Not at all like a home, Martin had thought the first time he’d visited, with a pang of sadness.

But then of course everything had gone to shit, and they’d run away to Daisy’s safehouse up north, and settled into a strangely… domestic routine.

“Mornin’,” Jon muttered as he stumbled into the kitchen, the morning sun filtering through the curtains. His damp hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and he finished cleaning his glasses on his sweater and put them back on, blinking.

“Good morning, Jon. You look like you didn’t sleep well,” Martin said, setting a cup of tea in front of him. “Is everything okay?”

Jon sniffed and took a sip of his tea. “I’d have slept perfectly well if _someone_ didn’t keep stealing my blankets.” He looked up at Martin with a half-cocked grin. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Martin blushed and took a drink of his own. “I’m… not used to sharing a bed, really, I’m still working on my etiquette I suppose. And you’re not innocent either, Jon! Look at this!” He pulled up the leg of his pajama bottoms to his knee and pointed at a mostly-faded bruise. “You keep kicking me!”

“You snore,” Jon said, mug halfway to his lips, and smiling when it somehow managed to make Martin get even more flustered. “I’m not complaining, it’s… nice to know you’re there. That you’re okay.” _That you’re not back in the Lonely_ , was the comment he kept in his mind. But Martin seemed to know exactly what Jon was thinking.

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah. I guess I feel the same way? About the bruises, you know? God, there’s no way to say it that isn’t weird is there-”

“You don’t need to,” Jon said. “I think I understand.”

“I figured you would.” Martin took another sip, letting the moment pass. “Are you headed into the village today?”

“Suppose I should- you wanted to make fettuccine and we haven’t got any cream or-”

“Broccoli,” Martin added.

Jon wrinkled up his nose at that. “Yes, broccoli. How could I forget.” He stood up, smoothed out his sweater, and started for the door.

“You’ve got your phone?” Martin asked, and Jon held up the sturdy little flip phone he’d insisted on keeping as an affirmative.

“Text me if you think of anything else you need,” Jon said. He pulled on his gloves and headed out the door.

\--

Martin had just stepped out of the shower when he heard his phone ring. He wrapped a towel around his waist and ran to the counter. “Hello?”

Jon’s voice greeted him, and Martin wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or more worried.

“I’m not too far out from the house- you need to come here,” Jon said, and then he hung up.

Martin scrambled to get dressed, pulling on binder and boxers and the rest of his clothing before grabbing his jacket and starting down the road to find Jon.

Like he’d said, he wasn’t too far away and Martin found him standing on the side of the road, with a grocery bag in one hand and waving excitedly with the other.

“Jon!” Martin panted as he reached him. “Why did you call me out…” He trailed off as the hand holding the bag pointed out to the field, and the other grasped his own.

“Cows,” Jon said.

“Are you sure those aren’t bales of hay?” Martin asked.

Jon hushed him. “If you just listen!” 

They let the silence fall and in the distance, sure enough, Martin could make out the faint lowing of cattle. A smile crossed his face. “Cows!”

“The lady at the shop told me there were some in these fields. And she also, uh, gave a statement. But not about the cows,” Jon said. Martin looked at him, both concerned and disapproving. “It’s fine. Oh, look.”

They’d seemingly gotten the attention of one of the cows, and she was making a slow, lumbering walk in their direction. Jon put his hand down and Martin felt Jon’s other hand clench around his. Martin idly noted that it was Jon’s burned hand, the texture of the skin too smooth.

“Oh my god,” Martin whispered as the cow neared the fence. “Jon. Jon what do we do, can we pet her?”

“Probably. Highland cows are very friendly as long as we’re careful not to startle them.”

Martin gave him a look. Jon shrugged. “I can’t help it, and if the Eye wants to give me information, I would rather have it be about _cows_ than another person’s trauma.”

Martin nodded. By now, the cow had wandered up to the fence. He stuck his hand out and she bumped her head against it, mooing.

His eyes lit up. “Jon. She’s so good.”

“Martin, are you about to cry?”

“No, no I’m not. I’m just, ah, a little emotional,” Martin said. He was petting the shaggy hair on the cow’s head with one hand and holding onto Jon with the other. “This is all very good.”

“What, the cows?” Jon asked.

“Of course the cows are good. But just, being here, with you, away from everything else… that’s also been good. Great, even,” Martin said. The cow gave a final headbutt to his hand and started meandering back to the rest of the herd, leaving him there, hand in hand with Jon.

“Shall we go home?” Jon asked. “I have groceries that need to be refrigerated.”

Martin shook himself back into the present, nodded dutifully. “Yeah, can’t have anything spoiling, can we?”

\--

It was Jon who said it first, over dinner that night. He was absolutely useless in the kitchen, and instead had been relegated to timing the pasta.

“How much longer?” Martin called as he placed the steamer lid on the pot of broccoli.

Jon glanced up to the ceiling for a moment of concentration. “Three minutes and eleven seconds. Ten seconds. And counting, you get the point.”

“You know, I bet you could make a living out of abusing the Eye’s powers,” Martin said. “Do sort of a carnival act, yeah?”  
Jon rolled his eyes. “I love you, but that’s stupid.”

Martin seemed taken aback for a moment. “Huh?”

“I said it’s a dumb idea.”

“No, no, I got that part. The bit right before it,” Martin said. He was aggressively stirring his white sauce now, facing the wall, anywhere but at Jon.

“I… I said I love you. I’m sorry, was- was that not okay?” Jon said. He took a few steps closer, aware of the waves of anxiety coming off of Martin.

Martin turned off the burner and leaned against the counter. “You know I like you, right?”

“I’d hope so. We’re living together for the foreseeable future and it’d be rather difficult if you didn’t,” Jon said.

“No, not like that. Well, I mean, like that too, but in a romantic sense? Like a crush?” Martin replied. He buried his face in his hands. “God, I’m sorry, I just-”

Jon put a hand on his shoulder. “No, Martin, it’s okay. While I… don’t experience romantic or sexual attraction, I still feel love. Albeit it’s a little different, but. Martin, when I said I loved you, I meant it.”

Martin looked up, owl-eyed. “I…”

“I do love you. And… and I think I would like to be your partner? I’m not sure of the language. My point is, I would like to be in a relationship with you. I think it would have many of the things in a romantic relationship, just not the label ‘romance’, and I’m sorry to be throwing this at you all at once-”

“Jon. Shut up,” Martin said. “I love you too. And I’m glad you said something because honestly the ambiguity was killing me. And if you’ll have it, I would love to be your partner.”

“Of course I’ll have it, Martin, it’s what I just said I wanted,” Jon rested his head into the crook of Martin’s neck, content, until eventually Martin gave him a little kiss on the forehead, and Jon looked up at him.

“We’ll figure this out, together. You and me, and the good cows down the road.”

**Author's Note:**

> Anyways I'm fully prepared to get hate for this, I'm just....... in love with them and with their love.


End file.
